ense
blackness within the walls.

He wondered whether the sniper and intruder were the same man. The
intruder had carried no rifle when he went out the hotel window. But it
was possible that he had cached one somewhere under the wall.

What could the man have been after? Rick rejected the idea that this was
common thievery. It was possible, but not probable. Especially after the
attack on Tony Briotti aboard the boat. And after finding that Chahda
had gone underground and was posing as a Sikh.

He was sure something was cooking that boded ill for the expedition. Nor
did he have to rack his brains to find the cause. A golden skull was
reason enough. Mass murder had been committed for less gold many times
before this.

His eyes searched the darkness, and his ears strained for the slightest
sound, but no movement or noise followed. Yet, unless the sniper were
the world's most silent walker, he could not have slipped away.

And where was Scotty?

Again he pondered the mystery of Chahda. The Hindu boy had been
registered at the Manila Hotel, waiting for the Spindrift party. Then,
three days before their arrival, he had checked out and gotten a job as
a guard at Lazada's. The disguise didn't cause Rick much wonderment.
Sikhs, after all, are Indians, and Chahda had once worked for a Sikh
officer in the Bengal Lancers. Rick remembered that from an incident
during the Tibet expedition. It was probable that Chahda had simply gone
to the chief Sikh in Manila--there was always such a leader--and
enlisted his aid.

But why?

Rick tensed, sensing a presence near him. He raised on one elbow and
thought he discerned a figure nearby. The figure was close to the wall.
He had a hunch that it was Scotty, but he couldn't be sure. He made no
further movement, waiting to see.

The figure became clearer, passed close in front of him, and from his
low vantage point the man was silhouetted against the sky, which had a
pink glow from the myriad neon lights of downtown Manila. No doubt of
it, the figure was Scotty's. Rick got to his feet, and staying close to
the wall, moved in the same direction Scotty had taken.

The inner ground of the walled city was fairly clear, but close to the
walls there was considerable debris. Rick proceeded carefully, trying
not to make a noise. He picked his way through tangles of weeds and
wire, loose stone, and piles of junk that had been accumulating since
the days of the Spanish conquistadors.

He w